


Assumptions

by perdiccas



Series: Interlocking 'Verse [4]
Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, PWP, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-15
Updated: 2009-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 10:51:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perdiccas/pseuds/perdiccas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Chief had agreed to give him one day, away from the station, in the peace and quiet of his own home to finish the reports. Matt needs to have them on his desk by 6pm sharp or his ass would be on the line. The last thing he needs is Mohinder swanning around in his underwear, sticking his ass out and pouting until Matt takes him back to bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assumptions

**Author's Note:**

> Set about a month and a half before Control-Freak but can be read as a stand alone PWP.

Matt shuffles the stack of papers in front of him, twirling his pen between his fingers and trying not to watch Mohinder as he walks about the apartment in a pair of too tight boxer briefs and nothing else. Out of the corner of his eye, Matt can see Mohinder as he stretches out across countertop, teetering on his tip toes, his ass pushed up high and his stomach flush against the cool marble, snatching an apple from the fruit basket. Two small steps to the side and Mohinder could have reached his breakfast without resorting to gymnastics but Mohinder, Matt thinks, doesn’t know the meaning of subtle. Then on cue, as if he is the one with telepathic powers, Mohinder stretches his arms up high. The apple is red and gleaming above his head and when he twists at the waist to crack his spine, Mohinder lets out a noise that Matt is sure he’s only ever made before when his fingers are pressed deep inside him. Matt drags his eyes away and stares again at the mound of staff reports he needs to file by the end of the day. He taps his pen on the side of the table and clears his throat to let Mohinder know that enough is enough. He has work to do even if he is home for the day.

‘What?’ Mohinder asks, staring at Matt over his shoulder with a butter-wouldn’t-melt smile and hair so artfully tousled that Matt knows he’s been in the bathroom fiddling with it to try and tempt Matt away. He props his elbows on the counter and takes a big, crunching bite out of the apple, wriggling his hips as his heels finally drop to the floor. It’s obvious that Mohinder knows exactly what he’s doing.

‘You’re gonna be late for work.’

Mohinder just shrugs. The muscles of his back ripple with the movement and Mohinder must have caught him staring because he rolls his shoulders back once more and laughs softly to himself at Matt’s sharp intake of breath. ‘I’m not going to work today. Felt like taking the day off.’

Matt cracks his neck. Why couldn’t Mohinder have chosen another day to play this game? Matt wasn’t staying home because he felt like playing hooky. While it was nice to be in sweatpants and a t-shirt, swigging coffee out of his favourite ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug with the TV rumbling in the background, Matt was here not out of choice but because he had to be. His promotion to detective didn’t just mean more money and more rewarding work, it also meant more bureaucracy and piles and piles of unending paperwork. With the constant ring of telephones and a multitude of panicked thoughts pushing on him from every direction, it is harder than ever to get the words to stop swimming on the page as he tries to read. Harder still as migraines start to form at the base of his skull while he tries to decipher the officers’ chicken scratch handwriting. The Chief had agreed to give him one day, away from the station, in the peace and quiet of his own home to finish the reports. Matt needs to have them on his desk by 6pm sharp or his ass would be on the line. The last thing he needs is Mohinder swanning around in his underwear, sticking his ass out and pouting until Matt takes him back to bed.

‘Mohinder…’ he warns, ‘I’ve got a lot of work to do today.’

Mohinder spins around, rolling his eyes with such force and scowling so dramatically that Matt is tempted to tell him to watch it or if he’s not careful his face might stay that way. ‘I’m not a child, Matt.’

Clearly not, Matt thinks. The thin white cotton leaves nothing to the imagination and Matt can only assume Mohinder’s shorts have shrunk in the wash because there was no way he bought those thinking they’d be comfortable.

‘I can entertain myself.’ The smirk in his voice goes straight to Matt’s dick. For a moment he wonders if Mohinder is projecting his dirty thoughts or if the filthy things he’s picturing Mohinder doing to keep himself busy are the product of his own imagination. Mohinder punctuates the words with quick bites of his apple. The sharp sounds as Mohinder chews are enough to get Matt to shake his head and pull his eyes away from the other’s man’s crotch.

‘Could you entertain yourself while clothed, please?’ He waves his hand at the mound of papers stacked before him. ‘I really need to concentrate.’

‘Fine,’ Mohinder huffs. He might not be a child but Matt thinks Mohinder could give Molly a run for her money when he pouts and stamps his foot like that. As he leaves the room he brushes tantalisingly close to Matt’s side. It would be so easy to reach out and hook a hand around his hip, or stroke his thigh and pull him down for the kiss he’s so clearly angling for. But a kiss is never just a kiss with Mohinder. He goes from zero to sixty in the time it takes Matt’s hands to slide from the side of his face to the back of his neck. Matt knows that if he gives Mohinder even the slightest encouragement, he’ll be writhing in Matt’s lap, panting, moaning and begging to be allowed to fuck him. Honestly, Matt’s surprised that even absent any encouragement and in the face of active, if gentle, discouragement, Mohinder hasn’t ended up in his arms anyway. He can be as stubborn as a mule when he wants something and Matt has to admit that when what Mohinder wants is Matt, he doesn’t usually get much resistance.

Matt can hear the bedroom door shut, more loudly than is strictly necessary. He makes a mental note to stock up on aspirin for Molly’s teenage years because he can already tell he’s going to be stuck in the midst of a lot of door slamming. He sighs as he picks up the first report and rubs his eyes. As much as he can, he puts Mohinder from his mind and starts to work.

***

Matt wouldn’t say that he was on a roll, exactly, but he’s finding it much easier to concentrate in the stillness of the apartment and when he looks at the diminished stack of papers still left to work through, he’s pleasantly surprised to see how much headway he’s made. At this rate he’ll be done by lunchtime. Then, he can put in some quality time with Mohinder, one hundred percent stress free and mind wholly on the task at hand, before swinging by the station to drop the reports off with time to spare.

He checks his watch and frowns to see that it has been nearly three hours since Mohinder sequestered himself in the bedroom. Maybe he decided to go back to bed, he’s been working late and could use the sleep, but then again, maybe he’s sulking. Had he expected Matt to follow him to bed, to knock on the door five minutes later and sheepishly say that work could wait after all? Mohinder clearly wanted him to, but would he really get annoyed that for once it was Matt’s work not his that was keeping them apart? It seemed unfair to think so but at the same time, as much as Matt loved Mohinder, he knew the other man was not without his flaws.

Mohinder can be self-centred in the worst possible way. It isn’t just that as much as he loved Molly and Matt, his work and his research often came first – Matt understands how much it means to him to continue his father’s work. It is that Mohinder can be entirely oblivious to the needs of everyone else while at the same time expecting the rest of the world to kowtow to his demands. Worse yet, Mohinder is clearly so used to getting his own way, ordering subordinates around the lab and commanding a high social position, that it has been a tough learning curve for him since Molly and Matt had taken up residence in his too small apartment. They’ve come a long way as a family – Mohinder tries to be more aware and Matt tries to be less flippant and deliberately provoking – and most of the time things carry on without a hitch. Today, though, Matt needs Mohinder to think about him not himself and the longer he sits at the table contemplating the suspicious quiet that fills the apartment the more annoyed he becomes at Mohinder’s earlier display.

If Matt had tried something like that when Mohinder was knee deep in contradictory test results and with a deadline breathing down his neck, he would have gotten nothing but a cutting remark and a cool civility so formal it bordered on rude. That Matt could be as gentle in his rejection as possible, and have the best possible reason to reject Mohinder, and yet still get a pout when Mohinder left the room suddenly seems ridiculously unfair. It isn’t as if Matt’s job isn’t important. He saves lives just as often as Mohinder does. Sure they are the lives of ‘ordinary people’ but those lives are just as important as the lives of people like him and Molly. It isn’t as if anyone could do what Matt did, and though he’d never say it to Mohinder’s face, when the nights became long and once again Mohinder’s need to work trumps Matt’s, he wants to scream that it isn’t as if the Company hasn’t muddled through for decades without Mohinder’s brilliance.

He stalks to the door feeling as angry as if Mohinder has already said the things he imagines him thinking: _it can wait; it’s not like it’s important; it’s only paperwork, who cares?_ He doesn’t bother to knock on the door when he opens it. Matt feels simultaneously guilty for just barging in and potentially catching Mohinder in the midst of whatever it is he might be doing and at the same time unbelievably irritated that he should have to think about knocking at all. The time had long since passed since either of them has thought about this as _Mohinder’s_ apartment or _Mohinder’s_ bedroom. To his surprise, Mohinder is lying across the bed, his bare feet dangling over the side, nose buried deep in a book. He’s dressed himself in a pair of low slung jeans and an olive green undershirt, the waistband of his too tight white boxer briefs just visible from where Matt stands. Mohinder glances up when Matt walks in and flashes him a bright, wide smile, indicating with one finger that he’s in the middle of a paragraph and he’ll be with Matt in just a second. There isn’t a hint of petulance about it and suddenly Matt’s anger seems irrational and misplaced.

Matt looks about the room as he waits. Mohinder has made the bed, even bothering to arrange to the silly oversized pillows that came with the comforter set but that they never use. The laundry hamper, this morning an overflowing mess of their combined clothes, has been emptied and sorted into piles of darks and lights ready to take to the laundromat. Mohinder must have snuck out the room at some point when Matt was deep in his work because the ironing board is propped up in the corner and Matt can see their freshly laundered clothes are hanging in the closet, crisp and neatly pressed. He feels stupid for coming here now, looking to pick an argument when instead of sitting in the dark, pining for Matt, Mohinder has been doing all the domestic tasks that usually cut into their weekend. But his irritation isn’t gone, it has simply been redirected at himself. He wants to slink away, mentally apologising to Mohinder for thinking the worst and beat himself up later for being such a jerk but Mohinder is done reading and shakes him from his thoughts.

‘Hi’

‘Hi,’ he replies, eyes on the ground.

‘Are you done?’ Mohinder asks hopefully, eagerly and Matt has to hold back a groan at the guilt his tone inflicts in Matt’s gut.

‘Not yet.’

‘Want to take a break?’ Mohinder slides off the bed seductively. He wraps his arms around Matt’s middle and kisses his neck, sucking at the skin that peeks out from the neckline of his t-shirt. It feels fantastic and Matt doesn’t know why he wanted to deny himself this earlier but right now he knows he doesn’t deserve fantastic. He pushes at Mohinder’s chest. It’s a little more forceful that he intends and the other man stumbles backwards, looking hurt and confused.

‘Sorry,’ he mutters. ‘I should keep working.’

Matt turns and walks hastily back to the dining room table. When Mohinder emerges from the bedroom ten minutes later and leaves with nothing but a curt explanation that they need more groceries, Matt doesn’t blame him in the slightest.

***

Matt’s finished his paperwork and is nervously tapping his pen on the edge of the table when Mohinder gets home. He’s been gone for hours and Matt suspects he went to take a long walk in the park to clear his head before swinging by the grocery store on his way home. Shopping probably only took twenty minutes which leaves a distressingly long time for Mohinder to have been stalking up and down the park stewing about Matt. Matt has spent just as long thinking about Mohinder. His work may be completed but he’s done a shoddy job with it and he knows that as soon as makes up to Mohinder for his unpredictable behaviour earlier, he’ll be rushing at the last minute correcting every second sentence.

To his surprise, Mohinder smiles as he shoulders open the door, arms laden with bags. He gets up to help but Mohinder kicks the door shut and has the groceries in the kitchen before he can lend a hand. Mohinder kisses him on the cheek when Matt joins him in front of the fridge and together they unload the bags.

‘I’m sorry about before,’ Mohinder starts. Matt is completely taken aback that Mohinder is the one apologising to him. He’s fairly certain that he was the one who acted like an ass.

‘No. I’m sorry,’ Matt counters. As he continues to put away the shopping, he notices the things that Mohinder has bought. Thick porter house steaks, two six packs of beer – imported German stuff without a hint of English on the packaging – and a mess of junk food that Mohinder would usually turn up his nose at. He’s said more than once that if Matt wants to fill his body with high fructose corn syrup and E numbers then he’s more than welcome to. He just has to walk to the store and buy it himself. It’s clearly a peace offering and one he really doesn’t think he deserves.

‘No, really,’ Mohinder insists. ‘You have a lot of work to do today and I shouldn’t have been bothering you. In fact, I was thinking I might go into the lab after all. Give you some space.’

‘What?’ Matt didn’t think anything could make him feel worse than he did after hours of mulling over how rudely he had treated Mohinder, but knowing that Mohinder was considering putting himself out just so that Matt could have _some space_ was suddenly doing the trick. ‘No, look, it doesn’t matter. I’m all finished now and I have a couple of hours to kill before I need to be back at the station.’

Mohinder looks tempted but not convinced. ‘Come on, if I take them in now, the Chief’ll only make me work the rest of the shift. There must be some way we can think to entertain ourselves…’

Matt seals his words with a slow, deep kiss. He cradles Mohinder’s face in both his hands, pulling him up slightly so that he stands on his toes and his body arches forward against Matt’s own. One hand shifts to the back of Mohinder’s neck, his thumb rubbing the spot behind his ear that drives him wild and that’s all it takes. Without breaking the kiss, Mohinder is walking them backwards towards the bedroom, their chests heaving together and their hands suddenly frantic as they run unfettered over one another’s bodies.

They’re half undressed by the time they reach the bedroom and Mohinder lets himself be pushed down onto the bed with a happy chuckle that Matt hasn’t heard since far too early this morning. He’s determined to make Mohinder smile and laugh and cry out in pleasure for the rest of the afternoon to atone for the unfair things he has thought. Perhaps it is ridiculous to apologise for something he has never even said, but Matt thinks it is bad enough that the intent was there.

Mohinder tries to pull Matt down over himself and roll them over to straddle him, but Matt uses his superior weight to his advantage and flips Mohinder onto his stomach instead. Gently, he holds Mohinder in place with a hand to the small of his back and pulls off his jeans. He’s still wearing those threadbare shrunken cotton boxer briefs and from this angle Matt can clearly the dark shadow of the cleft of Mohinder’s ass. He kisses Mohinder through the fabric and smiles as he feels Mohinder relax beneath him and spread his legs. Matt nips playfully the crease where his thigh meets his ass before slowly pulling down his underwear, licking and sucking at his skin as it is exposed. When his boxers are off, thrown to the side in the general direction of the hamper, Matt leaves a wet kiss on each cheek and blows a stream of warm air between them. Mohinder shudders beneath him. He buries his moans in the pillow and rocks his hips into the mattress.

‘You want that?’ Matt asks, knowing the answer is _oh, fuck, god, yes_ though Mohinder will never phrase it quite like that. He smiles when Mohinder just moans encouragingly and he knows that’s the most coherent answer he’s likely to get right now.

‘Don’t move.’

He pats Mohinder’s butt and goes quickly to the bathroom to get a clean, warm washcloth. Mohinder loves this but he never asks for it because he baulks at the idea of doing it in return. Matt has tried to get him to understand that it doesn’t matter and that complete reciprocity isn’t the way things need to work when they’re making love. Still Mohinder denies himself when Matt would happily indulge him whenever he wants. But now he wants to give Mohinder everything he can. He almost wishes he didn’t enjoy doing this as much as Mohinder enjoys being on the receiving end because it seems less an act of contrition and more of a treat when he gets pleasure from it too.

‘You don’t have to,’ Mohinder says in a breathless voice that tells Matt exactly how much Mohinder wants him to.

He’s looking over his shoulder, his eyes heavily lidded with desire and his lips swollen a deep, full red from their kisses. His body is taut like a string wound too tight and Matt wouldn’t have batted an eyelid if he had found Mohinder quivering under the strength of his arousal. It takes his breath away to be wanted so forcefully. When Mohinder is turned on it is as if his every cell is given over to desire and longing. Even without seeking it out, Mohinder’s thoughts are pushing at him from all directions – _so hot, Matt; fuck, I want you so badly; please_. It’s the last one that always gets to him, an aching, ceaseless begging to be touched and loved and needed that runs on a loop until Mohinder comes and his thoughts finally fall into a blissful, sated silence.

‘I want to,’ Matt assures him as he skims the damp cloth down Mohinder’s spine and between his legs, cleaning him thoroughly and teasing him at the same time. ‘I really, really want to.’

He holds Mohinder wide and breathes onto his entrance, smiling as Mohinder exhales loudly above him. With small flicks of his tongue he laps from the back of Mohinder’s balls to the small of his back, and then retraces his route adding in nips of his teeth and longer licks at the spots that make Mohinder cry out the most. Slowly, he holds his tongue flat against Mohinder’s opening, feeling the ring of muscle twitching beneath him. He loves the different textures of Mohinder’s skin here, the wrinkled tightness around his hole and the almost too smooth skin of his perineum.

Matt purses his lips and sucks lightly. Hearing Mohinder gasp in pleasure at the unexpected sensation, he pulls more skin between his lips and works harder to make Mohinder groan. He presses his lips around Mohinder’s entrance and hums, pleased when he jerks back involuntarily against his mouth, thrusting forward again to rub his erection into the sheets. Matt circles the muscle, wetting it thoroughly and poking just the tip of his tongue inside. He pulls back to breathe and replaces his mouth with his spit damp fingers, using his other hand to pet Mohinder’s back and thighs.

Mohinder is whimpering and rocking back and forth on the mattress so slightly that Matt thinks it unlikely he’s getting any relief at all. From the nape of his neck to the backs of his thighs, his skin is glistening with sweat. As he pushes into Mohinder with one spit slick fingertip, twisting it around and working him open, Matt takes Mohinder’s hand in his own and guides it down to his hips.

‘Touch yourself,’ he suggests. ‘It’s ok. I want you to,’ he adds when Mohinder hesitates.

Matt waits until Mohinder takes himself in his hand, squeezing his cock tenderly at first and then with a self-indulgent laugh that quickly becomes a moan, begins to masturbate. Matt watches the way that his muscles twitch, his legs spreading wider and his hand moving faster than he knows Mohinder intends. He loves to see the way Mohinder bites his lip when he does this. He furrows his forehead until there is a deep crease between his eyebrows and Matt bites back his own happy chuckle as he realises Mohinder looks just as he does when surrounded by printouts and lab reports, deep in concentration. It’s not until Mohinder starts to push back on his finger that he realises his own movements have stopped. He has been so caught up in watching Mohinder that he has forgotten to continue what he was doing.

In a fit of remorse he pulls his finger free and resumes kissing and nibbling at Mohinder’s ass with renewed vigour. He lifts Mohinder by the hips to push his tongue further inside and he can feel his body shaking beneath his lips with the thrust of his hips and the rapid jerk of his hand. The taste of Mohinder’s sweat and musk is stronger now and it makes Matt moan against him, sweeping his tongue over as much of Mohinder as he can to collect it all in his mouth. He darts kisses from his hole to his perineum and when Mohinder cries out, drops further down to suck and nip at the back of his balls. The skin there is tight as Mohinder’s orgasm draws closer. He opens his lips wide and sucks each one carefully into his mouth, grazing him just slightly with his teeth until Mohinder is swearing with the pleasure he can barely contain.

‘Matt!’ Mohinder calls out desperately.

With one practiced movement, Matt pulls his mouth away, roughly turning him over and crawling quickly up the length of his body. He hastily wipes his mouth on the back of his hand but Mohinder no longer seems to care where his lips have been as he pulls Matt’s head down and kisses him deeply. Mohinder pushes his hips up and takes Matt’s cock in his hand, holding their lengths together and rubbing them both. Matt finds he can barely breathe. His chest is tight, his nipples so hard they almost hurt and Mohinder is kissing away his breath, over and over again as he strokes them off together.

When Mohinder thrusts, the length of his erection rubs along the length of Matt’s, leaving a sticky trail of pre-come on his too hot, too tight flesh. Mohinder’s hand moves faster. His rhythm and breathing are erratic now and Matt can tell how close he is. He reaches down and with a single stroke pushes Mohinder over that glorious precipice. His cock pulses in Matt’s hand, pressed up against Matt’s still hard and aching dick. He smoothes Mohinder’s come back down their cocks, using the wetness to slick his movements and jack himself quicker. Mohinder is just starting to recover from the spasms that coursed through his body when Matt seizes, hot semen spurting in thick ribbons over his abdomen.

Mohinder caresses his chest with his filthy hands as Matt’s body slowly stills. He is kissing Matt’s face and neck with quick, butterfly light presses of the lips and when Matt opens his eyes he sees Mohinder smiling down with a wide satisfied grin. He reaches out with his mind, knowing it is wrong but needing to know his penance has been accepted, and finds the outskirts of Mohinder’s mind nothing but a happy white noise of love and satisfaction.

‘We should shower,’ Mohinder murmurs not making any move to leave the bed or clean them up. Matt glances at the clock. It’s getting close enough to six that he should be worried but he feels too happy to care about the wrath of the Chief.

‘Just five more minutes,’ he moans.


End file.
